<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Snowfall by EvilGenius</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29835675">Snowfall</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/EvilGenius/pseuds/EvilGenius'>EvilGenius</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>FMA Drabbles [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood &amp; Manga</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Closure, Ed is finally getting a chance to heal from his trauma and grief, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Hopeful Ending, Hurt/Comfort, I wanted this to be kinda fluffy in that sort of really calming way, Light Angst, Moving On, Post-Canon, Post-Promised Day, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, because he deserves it :"), of a sort, the edwin can be read as slash or platonic</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 21:41:10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,336</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29835675</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/EvilGenius/pseuds/EvilGenius</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Ed begins to heal.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Alphonse Elric &amp; Edward Elric, Edward Elric &amp; Winry Rockbell</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>FMA Drabbles [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2299217</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>36</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Snowfall</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>So, I meant to create this as a draft at first. But it seems that I, in all of my <i> infinite </i> wisdom, have accidentally clicked the post button, which I didn't even notice until I got an email saying that some very kind people have decided to leave kudos on this unfinished hot mess anyway. </p><p>First of all, thank you for your kindness! </p><p>Second of all, I would like to actually finish this as planned, but I'd rather not have to take this down and create a whole new draft, so I'll just continue updating this one. Until then, please bear with me! &lt;3</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When Ed wakes up from his nightmare, he's half-expecting Al to be awake, sitting in the corner and flipping the pages of some cheesy romance novel.</p><p>Al is not awake. His little brother is still fast asleep in his own bed, and if Ed squints he can just make out the rising and falling of Al's chest, soft and even and undeniably human. Edward feels a strong pang of fondness at the sight, though some selfish part of him can't help but wish that Alphonse was awake to reassure him. <em>It was just a nightmare. A stupid nightmare.</em></p><p>It's not like he'd never had one before. That couldn't be further from the truth. It's just that- this is the first really bad one he's had after the Promised Day. Somehow, he's managed to sleep relatively soundly these past few months, secure in the knowledge of Father's death and Al's safety, but now it's like the spell has been broken, like some sort of sacred place has been intruded upon. Now Ed isn't sure what to do with himself.</p><p>Winry is unhurt. Al has his body back. Ed has completed his life's mission. Mom... Mom is still dead. </p><p>Now what?</p><p>Usually, in these situations, he could at least take some comfort in Al's presence. But Al is asleep, and he's not going to disturb his brother's well-deserved rest for the world. Wiping off the cool sweat trickling down his face, Ed carefully rises from the mattress, bedsprings creaking beneath him. He'll figure something else out. He always does.</p><p>The light is still on in Winry's workshop. She must have fallen asleep working on some new project again. <em>Some things never change, </em>Ed thinks to himself with a smile.</p><p>His finds himself at the entrance to the Rockbell house and pushes it open, blinking at the blast of frigid air that hits him. Resembool is no Briggs, but its winters can get pretty icy. Just the thought makes his automail port (just one port, now) begin to ache a little.</p><p>Ed gingerly sits down on the front porch step. The world is still blanketed in that darkness unique to those hours between morning and night- a darkness that Al must be very familiar with, he finds himself bitterly thinking. If he never saw that suit of armor again in his life, it would be too soon. Al says he still likes the old hunk of metal, and Ed believes him. But at the same time, Ed knows that the only thing he'll ever be able to see it as is a reminder of his own failure. </p><p>Even if he'd fixed things, it didn't erase those hellish years. The countless nights Al must have endured alone, just like this. The monster on the basement floor of all those years ago.</p><p>Edward isn't sure how long he sits there alone for. Just that every time he opens his eyes, the sky gets incrementally lighter. Time is passing too quickly and he is helpless to stop it. He massages his thigh port, feeling drowsy and exhausted in a way that sleep could never fix.</p><p>Then something lands on his nose and Ed opens his eyes again. A snowflake. <em>It's snowing.</em></p><p>Al is going to be thrilled. This isn't the first snow he's seen since getting his body back, but he's still just as entranced, every time.</p><p>As if on cue, his little brother comes through the door a moment later, gait a little unsteady but face bright with childlike glee.</p><p>"Brother! What are you doing up so early?" Al grins at him, only for his face to soften with worry. "Did you have a nightmare?"</p><p>Ed refuses to ruin his brother's fun with his own stupid problems. He responds with a noncommittal shrug and a smirk. "Eh. Couldn't sleep. Just be careful, Al, it's icy out today."</p><p>Al gives him another look, wordlessly asking, <em>are you sure?</em> Ed nods and Al, in all his endless mercy, drops the subject and steps out into the front yard.</p><p>Winry comes through the door moments later, hair mussed and face stained with ink and grease, balancing three steaming mugs of hot cocoa in her arms. She hands one to Ed, keeping one for herself and setting one aside- it takes him a full second to register that the third cup is for Al, and drinking is something he can actually do now. </p><p>The two stay in silence for a while. Ed savors the heat radiating from the mug, warming his two flesh hands. </p><p>"You're quiet today," Winry finally says.</p><p>Ed shrugs again, unable to muster the energy for one of their usual verbal sparring matches. "Guess so."</p><p>Another bout of silence. Al gasps softly as a snowflake lands on his extended finger.</p><p>"It's..." Winry pauses again, voice distant, expression nostalgic. "It's still hard to believe, isn't it? That everything is really back to normal?"</p><p>And suddenly there's a lump in Ed's throat, and leave it to Winry to immediately cut to the root of all of his problems. Because it's so hard to believe that this <em>is </em>normal. That this is safety. Just thinking the word seems paradoxically dangerous, as if at any moment he could shatter the illusion and wake up in the crummy Central dorms, Al's metallic voice echoing from beyond the door. </p><p>He must not be hiding his terror very well, because Winry's eyes widen ever so slightly, and she brushes her knuckles over his own. "Hey," she says sternly, squeezing his hand. "Everything is fine now, you dummy. You and Al are both home. So you better start taking it easy for a while, or I'll make you!"</p><p>And despite it all, he can't help the familiar smile that tugs at his face. "You wouldn't dare, gearhead."</p><p>"Just try me, alchemy freak."</p><p>They both huff small laughs at that, breaths fogging up the air in front of their faces. Winry squeezes his hand one last time, then sets down her mug and gets up to join Al. He greets her with a smile, golden-hazel eyes sparkling.</p><p>Maybe it's because what she says is so alluring or maybe it's just because it's Winry, but Edward finds himself desperately wanting to believe her.</p><p>It's just that- <em>it's just-</em></p><p>He feels like he's relearning how to breathe without the heaviness of automail against his shoulder, or the adrenaline that had once pumped through his veins 24/7- the desperation tostay on top of any leads on the Philosopher's Stone, stay ahead of the Homunculi lest he end up like Havoc or Hughes or worse, to keep <em>moving</em> simply because <em>there was nowhere else to go.</em></p><p>(<em>Oct. 3. 11. Don't forget. </em>As if he ever could.)</p><p>It's... strange, he thinks. The feeling of safety. Anything and anyone that Ed has deemed safe-<em> Hohenheim, Mom, Nina, Hughes, Greed</em>- has had a bad habit of slipping right through his fingers, so he supposes he's entitled to the right to be cautious.</p><p>But.</p><p>But Edward is tired, and the Homunculi are dead, and Winry and Al are here. Winry and Al are safe. And Edward is <em>tired.</em></p><p>He sighs, lets his eyes flutter closed. Lets the world wash over him. The snow is falling gently, and his little brother's peals of laughter ring through the winter morning. The sound is a balm for his soul; it soothes a bone-deep ache within him that he never knew he had. </p><p>Den barks, and Al laughs louder, more precious than any amount of transmuted gold. Ed wonders if this is what a drowned man finally coming up for air feels like.</p><p>He's so tired. He's been so tired, for so long. But he thinks that maybe, if things could just continue on like this, one day he would wake up and everything would be okay. And Ed is okay with waiting for that. For his own Promised Day.</p><p>But for now the snow continues to fall, and for the first time in years, Edward lets himself be at peace.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Me: *should be writing for my main story in a different fandom which I haven't updated in several months*</p><p>Me: *proceeds to write one-shot while maintaining direct eye contact*</p><p>I'm so sorry-</p><p>But yeah, this idea wasn't leaving my head and so here we are. I just love Ed so much, and Al, Winry, and- I'm just very obsessed with FMA. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this little drabble! Constructive criticism and feedback are more than welcome and make me very happy. Thank you for reading and stay safe out there, everyone &lt;3</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>